


To Watch it Begin Again

by takemeawaytocamelot



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 12:23:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13213704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takemeawaytocamelot/pseuds/takemeawaytocamelot
Summary: Jamie takes Claire to the standing stones before the final battle to spare her the cleansing of the Highlands after the war. The only problem is she doesn't land when she intends to.





	To Watch it Begin Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FtLoShakespeare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FtLoShakespeare/gifts).



I could hear the buzzing before we’d reached the hill. This was the very last place I wanted to be, knowing what was to come. Jamie pulled the horse to a stop and slid off before helping me to my own feet. I collapsed against him, unwilling to let go. Just over the rise, I could feel the stones calling to me.

“Come, Sassenach,” Jamie said quietly beside me. “We haven’t much time.”

“I don’t want to go,” I said, staring up at him.

But we’d had this conversation, and both of us knew nothing had changed.

“And I dinna want ye to go either, but…” his trembling hand rested over my womb once more. “It’s no’ just about us, is it?”

“No,” I said softly. “It isn’t.”

Taking my hand, we began our ascent to the stones. I stared at them, looming and sinister. When Jamie stopped, I did as well, eager to keep with him as long as I could.

“We dinna have much time,” he said, glancing back the way we’d come.

He started toward the largest stone, the one that sang to me, but I stopped him.

“Wait! Give me your dirk.”

Both of his eyes narrowed at me, but he did as I asked. After I sat down, I placed my right hand palm up on my knee.

“What are ye doing?”

I held the dirk out to him. 

“I want you to mark me”

“What?”

“Cut me, deep enough to leave a scar. I want to take away your touch with me, to have something of you that will stay with me always. I don’t care if it hurts; nothing could hurt more than leaving you. At least whenever I touch it, wherever I am, I can feel your touch on me.”

He took the dirk back from me and slid it into its sheath. I began to get up, to beg him to do it, but he put a hand out. Then he pulled the  _ sgian dhu _ from his stocking and sat down beside me. Holding my hand in his, he kissed my palm before biting the base of my thumb. Then before I knew it, he’d cut me. The blood welled up immediately and he held the tiny wound up to his mouth until the oozing slowed.

Then Jamie handed me the small knife and held out his hand. Though tears blurred my eyes, I made the cut. Belatedly, I realized I’d cut his left hand, his swordhand.

“Jamie! You won’t be able to fight with that!”

“Aye, I will. For every time I feel the pain of it, I’ll feel ye wi’ me.”

I was crying again as his arms came around me. He pulled the handkerchief from his sleeve and tied it around my hand before allowing me to do the same for him. We both wept, neither making moves to stop the tears. 

The grass was soft beneath me as I laid down, drawing Jamie above me. I carried his child within me, so I would always have a part of him with me. But I wanted, no  _ needed _ , to feel him. I kissed him frantically, hands clawing at his kilt. His own hands moved over me in familiar caresses. 

I don’t remember feeling him get my skirts up, or when he spread my legs, but I remember vividly when he entered me. The heat of him shot through me, searing my soul. I gripped his coat, holding him to me as tightly as I could. He tried to go slowly, to savor our last moments together, but he couldn’t contain the tide.

As he shuddered inside me, I ran my fingers through his hair. I would miss everything about him: the way he folded his kilt in such precise motions, the feeling of his head beneath my hand, the soft plait of his hair, the sound of his laugh, the taste of his mouth.

“Are ye hurt, Sassenach?” he said breathlessly.

“Yes,” I said, sitting up as he moved off me. “I’m tearing my heart out and leaving it here.”

“Aye. You have the hard part now. But I canna have ye here to starve and hope to survive what ye say is comin’. So ye must go back to… to Frank. He’ll take care of ye, and the bairn. Would ye do something for me?”

I nodded, aware of his hand tracing the lines of my palm.

“Anything.”

For a heartbeat, I thought he would ask me to stay, ask that we run away together. But he was a man of honor and he wouldn’t abandon his men or his family.

“Would ye name the bairn Brian, after my father?”

“Yes,” I said, knowing the time was near. “Of course I will.”

Jamie stood and held his hand out to me. I untied the cloth around my cut hand and did the same for his. I held our hands together, staring down at them for the last time.

“Blood of my blood…” I whispered.

“And bone of my bone,” he finished.

Arms around me, he began dancing me backwards. I kept my eyes on his tear-streaked face, though I heard the buzzing get louder.

“I love you,” I said, refusing to look anywhere other than his face. “I love you.”

Then he turned me and I faced the huge, looming stone. My body was suddenly rigid, unable to move as I told it. Jamie’s hand covered mine as he held it out to the stone.

“And I, you,” he breathed in my ear.

Still sobbing, he pressed my hand against the stone and everything around me fell away.

* * *

I don’t know how long I lay in the grass before I was able to stand. But eventually, I lumbered to my feet and looked around.

“It’s raining,” I muttered. “This  _ must _ be Scotland.”

I heard voices in the distance, so I made my way toward them. If I was going to get back to Frank, I would need help. 

Trudging in a soaking wet gown, however, was more difficult than it should have been. At long last, I reached the voices and stopped short.

“It can’t be…”


End file.
